


Golem's Heart

by Mertiya



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: All these tags make it seem really dark but it's not all that dark, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Choking, Golems, Hand & Finger Kink, I wrote this when I should have been doing Christmas shopping, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, It also wasn't supposed to be smut, It was very hastily written, M/M, Modern Era, Most of this stuff gets fixed in the course of the fic, Oops, Ral and Jace just had different ideas, References to Judaism, Scars, Self-Harm, Telepathy, The choking isn't part of the sex but goddamn if there isn't sexual tension there woops, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 02:53:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13114455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/Mertiya
Summary: The easiest way for Jace to feed is to steal blood from the local hospital, but when he gets there, he finds out a very bad-tempered golem has been sent to guard it.





	Golem's Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone on the Vorthos server; they know what terrible, terrible enablers they are.
> 
> Especial thanks to CaptainDemetrios, who came up with a lot of Ral's backstory and is an evil, evil person and to Kyros, who came up with the reopening scars because of course he did.

            Jace didn’t like hospitals, but he couldn’t deny they were by far the easiest way for him to avoid starving himself. If he didn’t go to a hospital or a blood bank, his only options were either hunting someone down outside or getting invited into a house, and he couldn’t exactly go back a second time. Well, maybe someone could, but Jace still hadn’t figured out how to be subtle about feeding, which was a bit of a problem.

            Still, he was starting to feel hopeful and vaguely stable. This was the third night in a row he’d slipped into the hospital under a minor glamer, and it was with a quiet sense of relief that he put out a hand and reached for a pack of blood. He felt the warmth of it against his hand, and then something touched the center of his back, and he was twitching, arcing backwards, every muscle in his body spasming.

            He was on the floor, trying to drag himself upright into a sitting position, his back stinging horribly.

            “Huh, I guess I should have expected a vampire,” said a slightly bored, unfamiliar voice. “I thought most of them didn’t go to this kind of trouble, though. Couldn’t you just grab some random schmuck off the street?”

            He was in trouble. Jace’s mind was jittering, failing to focus, but he managed to blink his eyes and stare up at the person who had knocked him down. A tall, man-shaped figure wearing a red-and-blue suit was looming over him. Not human, Jace’s nose told him; there was a strange scent of polished wood and oil hanging around him, and as the blurriness faded from his eyes, he could just make out a set of glowing runes across the man’s forehead. His mind ran over the set of creatures Tezzeret had had him memorize _before_ , and finally managed to pull _golem_. Shit. Probably immune to mind magic, then; almost certainly immune to the seductive aura, and Jace was hungry and tired, and he could feel dampness on his back, which meant the scars had opened up again. He probably wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight.

            “I d-didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he managed through lips that were still twitching a little. What had the golem done to him?

            The question was answered almost immediately, as a crackle of electricity jumped from the golem’s hand to his shoulder. “I didn’t know there were any vampires out there that stupid,” drawled his adversary. “You’ve impressed me.”

            “Fuck you,” Jace managed weakly. “All I’m trying to d-do is not die.” He started to get up, wincing at the new pain in his back, and the golem raised a hand, letting the lightning form a scintillating ball around it.

            “You should probably just sit still,” he said. “I don’t particularly want this job, but I don’t have a lot of choices. Sorry, it’s nothing personal.”

            _I don’t particularly want this job._ And there—was that an out? Jace winced again, leaning forward to relieve the stinging in his back. “You don’t have a lot of choices?” he repeated, straining to remember the pages and pages of lore. It probably would have been easier to remember if the studying hadn’t been accompanied by a striking admixture of terror. “Bit of a subservience problem, huh?” He indicated his own forehead.

            There was a loud bang as lightning jumped from the golem’s hand to the ground. “I’d be very careful what you say next,” he responded through gritted teeth. “My orders are to stop the thief, but nothing says what condition he needs to be in the next day.”

            Jace swallowed carefully. “Noted.” Pain lanced fleetingly through the scars again, but he shut his eyes, counting to ten. This was not the time for a flashback. “Anyways, I was just going to say I know something about _dealing_ with that kind of problem.” He thought of Tezzeret’s face when he broke the bond, the anger sliding away to be replaced by startled fear.

            “Yeah, so did I.”

            Jace knew pain when he heard it. His instinctual response took over before he thought about it, reaching out with his mind to find the source. It was something he’d initially done _before_ as an attempt to soothe his friends, but _after_ it had become more of a defense mechanism. Knowing exactly what Tezzeret was upset about had been something of a lifesaver. Now, instead of crashing into the mental absence he’d expected, he found—something. The golem’s mind didn’t feel like a flesh-and-blood mind—not quite—the texture was different, but the pattern was there.

            _Burn them_ _and forget them._

_Freedom is in front of him, a stack of meticulous notes in his own scrawled handwriting. He struggles, but he can’t fight the pain in his head. He can’t stop it as he watches his own hand reach out—not even trembling—light a match, and drop the match on the pile. Fire flares in his mind as it flares in the papers. All of it’s slipping away, and all he can do is watch; the hand of his master holds him as tightly as if it were a physical vise. Ral feels as if he’s going to be torn in half; he wants to scream and yell and cry, wants to carve the letters out of his forehead, and all he can do is watch._

_All he can do is watch._

When Jace limped back into his own head, there was nausea roiling in his stomach. “Fuck,” he said honestly. “ _Jesus_.”

            “What the _fuck_ did you just do to me?” the golem snarled, and somewhere in there, Jace was hoisted off his feet, pinned to the wall with a hand at his throat. The hum of electricity sounded in his ears.

            “ _Ghhhk_.” Jace tried to respond and discovered that it was not so easy to speak with a hand pressing into his windpipe. Switching to telepathy, although he was aware that it might be a mistake, he said, _I’m a telepath, and before you murder me, I think I can help you_.

            “How could you possibly help me?” Ral Zarek spat. “Everything that I am—everything that I will _ever_ be is a single _fucking_ word.”

            _Because I can get it back_.

            The pressure on his throat eased ever so slightly, but he was jerking, feet banging against the wall behind him as the lightning caught his limbs again.

            “ _How_ —you couldn’t _possibly_ —how could you _do_ that?”

            _Telepath, remember?_ Oh, god, his back was going to hate him so much in the morning. Jace got out a soft whimper, and the hand on his throat eased a little more.

            “It’s gone,” Ral whispered, but even without using his telepathy, Jace could hear the sudden flutter of hope warring with the anger and despair.

            _It’s not gone._ He could feel it burning at the back of Ral’s mind still. The access was cut off, but the knowledge remained. _I can get it back. If you let me go_.

Ral made a strangled noise. “I _can’t_ ,” he choked, as if he were the one whose throat was being constricted beneath someone else’s hand. “I told you I’ve got _some_ leeway, but I don’t have that _much_.”

            And it was doubtful if Jace could perform such a fiddly operation while injured, bleeding, and ravenous. Certainly not in the amount of time they probably had. Ral’s hand relaxed enough to let him slide down the wall. It _might_ be possible—if he could just _eat_ something, Jace thought. “If I do it _now_ —” he said, “—then you won’t have to keep me here.”

            Ral’s face flickered through a number of emotions and returned to something approaching a guarded neutrality. “Only if the ritual isn’t too complex,” he replied tersely. “I _do_ remember it being somewhat involved.”

            “If my other option is being turned over to whoever your employer is, I’ll chance it,” Jace told him, a shiver running down his spine at the mental impression he’d gotten from Ral of the man who’d created him. He had no taste for being strapped down a table and experimented on again. “There’s just one thing—I don’t think I can do it without feeding.” One hand slid up beneath his shirt, pinching at one of the scars, a nervous gesture he still hadn’t been able to set aside. At least the pain was a normal touchstone, enough to help him focus.

            The golem growled in frustration. “I can’t let you have any of the blood _either_ ,” he groaned, and Jace shut his eyes again. Pinch, twist, _pain_. The smell of oil and wood.

            “What about you?” he blurted. It could work—if he could read Ral’s mind, then maybe he was human enough for whatever liquid he had inside himself to substitute.

            Ral blinked at him. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a _golem_.”

            “Do you have a better idea?” Jace snapped. He put his hand to his forehead, a gesture of frustration, then muttered an obscenity as he felt the moisture on his face. The golem’s hand dropped away from his throat entirely, reached out and took his hand.

            “You’re _bleeding_ ,” Ral said. “What the fuck? I thought you were a vampire.”

            Jace gave him a crooked smile, flashing the fangs that were already starting to extend from his top and bottom jaw. “I’m a _special_ vampire,” he replied wearily. “My sire—opened these up when he turned me. They open again whenever I’m tired or haven’t had enough blood.”

            A pause. A matching twisted smile appeared on the other man’s face. “I guess we’re not so different, after all. Well, look—you can give it a shot. It better not hurt too much, though.”

            It took a moment for Jace to process the easy agreement, and it gave him the sudden, sharp sensation of missing a step he’d expected to be beneath his feet. “All right, then,” he said awkwardly. “Can you sit down then? It’ll be easier if I—” A wave of dizziness passed over him, and he was leaning against the golem. He’d drooped forward somehow.

            “No shit,” Ral said. “You—” he paused. “You’re not what I expected.”

            He helped Jace over to a bench at the side of the room. Sitting down helped, but Jace’s vision was still fading from normal to infrared to black and back. Ral showed bright red-white in his predator’s vision, he thought muzzily, so at least he was the right temperature. Another dizzy moment passed, and he found that he was nuzzling at Ral’s neck, following that same warm scent of oil and wood.

            “Wow, okay.” Was that _amusement_? “I’ve never seen a vampire act like a hungry puppy before.”

            “M’not,” Jace complained, but he could feel the pulse beating beneath his lips, and it was extremely distracting. “D’I look like a werewolf t’you?” Sharp sensation pricking through his mouth as his fangs finished extending. He lathed his tongue across the flesh beneath it. He hadn’t fed from anything other than a blood bag in weeks, and he hadn’t expected the tingling sensation spreading across his body, or the strange lack of urgency.

            “Are you actually going to bite me, or are you just going to attempt to lick me to death?”

            “Shu’ _up_ ,” Jace complained. “You sai’ you didn’ wan’ i’ t’hur’.”

            “Huh?”

            “Saliva has anesthe’ic proper’ies.” He didn’t say he was enjoying this as well, because that might be a little bit weird.

            “ _Really_.” That wasn’t sarcasm, Jace realized; it was a sudden, deep interest.

            “Mmmhmm.” He bit down and shuddered at the taste spilling across his tongue. Not quite the _same_ as usual, just like Ral’s mind didn’t feel quite the same, but it was _good_. No reaction from Ral. “See? You didn’ feel tha’ a’ all, righ’?”

            A hand in his hair, tightening suddenly. “I wouldn’t _quite_ say that,” Ral responded, sounding oddly breathless. “Didn’t hurt, though.”

            Still the overpowering impression of oil and wood, but something more than that now, as he lapped at the fluid spilling across his tongue. Gold, he thought vaguely—no, maybe silver. Something bright and glittering. He shook his head. His brain should be clearing by now, surely. Ral groaned near his ear, and Jace realized suddenly that his brain _was_ clearing; there was just—a _different_ instinct warring with the feeding one. Oh, _shit_.

            “I—oh god—” he said breathlessly into Ral’s neck. “I swear I wasn’t using the aura, I don’t know—” Reluctantly, he peeled himself backwards, panting, warmth rising to his cheeks.

            Ral stared back at him, chest rising and falling far too quickly, a thin red trickle winding down his neck to seep into his shirt. “Good to know,” he panted. His eyes were blown wide, and Jace wished he couldn’t see the race of blood pounding through his veins so _easily_.

            “If you give me a minute, I’ll…I’ll just…” He didn’t know what he would do. He needed to feed for longer, but he was _hard_ , oh, _shit_ , and he hadn’t even noticed. What was he going to _do_? “Can—does this bother you?”

            The golem blinked at him, looking almost stunned, then snorted with laughter. “No,” he said. “Look, come morning, we’re either going to be basically dead or we’re going to be free. Might as well have some fun before then, right?” And then the pupils constricted a little. “Also,” he said quietly, “you’re the first person to want this with me. Or to ask.”

            Jace stared, throat working. “Oh,” he responded, then saw the startled look of fear pass across Ral’s face, and realized that the final two sentences hadn’t been vocalized. “Oh—oh, god, I’m so sorry, I—I forgot, I have to pay more attention to my telepathy if I’ve just been feeding from someone—”

            Ral shook his head with a sigh and nothing more than an irritated look. “You’re going to have to dig around in there to get what we need out anyway,” he said. “Might as well not worry about it too much. Now why don’t you come back here and _feed_?” Dry amusement laced his voice on the final word.

            They were both trembling, Jace noticed, as he returned to his original position. This time, as he put his lips back on Ral’s neck, the golem made a soft, desperate noise and curled a hand around Jace’s back. Instead of tucking himself back into Ral’s side, Jace let Ral draw him nearer until he was straddling Ral’s thigh, hips starting to move as he fed. Sensation built slow, tantalizing, and sweet between his legs. Hands fell onto his waist, and Ral began to move his hips as well until they were rocking against each other.

            Jace whined against Ral’s neck, and Ral made a sudden, breathless noise. “Let me—” The hands moved around to the front of Jace’s waist, and he gulped and swallowed a mouthful of strong, hot liquid. Hoarse noise, and Jace’s jeans were being undone, hands shifting his hips closer to Ral’s. Then one long-fingered hand had slipped inside his trousers, and Jace yelped and groaned, nails digging into Ral’s shoulder. Ral’s hand moved, and now it was encircling both of them, and Jace was thrusting against him, shuddering desperately, pressing his face into Ral’s neck.

            “Oh _god_ oh _god_ , R- _Ral_ —”

            Ral didn’t respond except to make a low noise in his throat and to hitch his own hips faster against Jace’s. Jace found himself clutching at Ral like an anchor, felt his mind reaching out as well. _Let me in, please,_ please _, let me in—_

And Ral did. Lightning and heat, oil and clay. Warm, slick flesh beneath Jace’s hands. The entirety of that sharp, bright mind laid open before him, except for the dark, walled-off part that was _burning_. It was wrong; so painfully _wrong_ , that Jace reached out before he knew what he was doing. That hurt as well, but there was blood in his veins, and the pain was receding from his back, heat singing through his whole body, and he wasn’t going to let it stop him. This block did not belong in Ral’s head, and it was hurting him. Jace twisted with his mental tendrils, and then did something very complicated without thinking too hard about it.

            The wall crumbled. Ral came apart around him. Jace drowned in a golden heat haze.

            Jace’s hand was sticky, but he was curled up comfortably, warm and full.

            “What did you do?” a voice said from quite a long distance away.

            “Hmmmm?” he managed sleepily, before his brain reminded him he was in a highly exposed location with someone he barely knew. The reminder was enough to get him to peel his eyes open, but not enough to banish the soft satiation or the feeling of contented safety.

            “What did you do?” Ral was repeated. “Holy fuck, I _remember_ it. I remember the _ritual_ , you—you beautiful, predatory— _hungry puppy_.”

            Before Jace could even begin to process this, he was being kissed, hard and insistent, Ral’s hand in his hair twisting pain-pleasure through his scalp. Before he could really begin to respond, he was set down on the bench again, and Ral was on his feet, pacing across the room. “It’ll take an hour or two,” he said to himself. “Can’t be past one am now, though, and thank god it doesn’t require much in the way of material components—yeah, that’s _plenty_ of time. Unbelievable. _Un_ be-fucking-lievable. I think I love you?” And before Jace could respond to _that_ , Ral tripped over his own unsecured jeans, and crashed unceremoniously to the hospital floor.

            “Are you all right?”

            “Fine, fine.” Ral waved a hand at him. “Better than fine. Ow, okay, hurt my nose, but _fine_. Super good, actually. D’you mind keeping a watch on the door while I do this thing? And, hey, how about we go out for coffee tomorrow morning—although I guess we’d better skip town if we can…”

            “I’ve had practice,” Jace sighed, feeling something small and warm blossom in his chest at the casual ‘we.’ “Sure, I’ll keep watch.”

            “Great, great. So…coffee? Or pancakes? Uh…can you…eat?”

            “Can _you_?”

            Elaborate shrug. “Yeah, kind of.”

            “I can drink coffee,” Jace said firmly. “Pancakes—I’m not sure. That could end in vomiting and tears.”

            “Well, maybe if you’re feeling adventurous.”

            Jace found that he was staring at Ral as if he were a menorah in the window of the childhood home Jace barely remembered. “I’m—yes,” he said. “God. Yes. Absolutely.”

            “Great. Then just—” Ral yanked his trousers up to his waist again, crossed the room, and bent down to kiss Jace again. “Great. This is the best night of my life.”

            There were actual tears rising in Jace’s eyes. “Mine, too,” he managed. “Mine—mine, too.”           


End file.
